Harry Potter and the Reprobate Romance
by cemilie
Summary: Harry Potter always managed to keep a sliver of sanity through his many trials at Hogwarts with the help of his friends. But in his third year at Hogwarts, a new challenge arose, one that he couldn't dare speak to his friends about. His enmity with Draco Malfoy was more than obvious to their peers, but was it just an act? What truly happened between the boys when they were alone?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

As Harry sat and stared down at his pale hands trembling in his lap, he couldn't help but think back to when this all began and wonder why he had let himself sink so low. He looked up and watched Draco's slim figure retreating down the corridor, without so much as a glance backwards. But that was how it always was. A few blissful, agonizing moments in heaven (or hell; it was difficult to tell), and then he was alone again. He clenched his teeth and straightened up, heading in the opposite direction. He didn't really want to go back to Gryffindor tower. He knew Hermione and Ron would be there waiting for him, wondering where he'd been and asking questions as they always did. At least Malfoy never asked questions about his personal life. Of course, Harry never asked questions about Draco's life either; it was an unspoken rule they had. As they entered their 6th year at Hogwarts (and 3rd year of whatever it was that they had going on) Harry had noticed changes in the other boy, changes he feared. He tried not to think about them now as he wandered aimlessly through the stone halls with their many moving portraits. Instead he let his mind drift back to his 3rd year at Hogwarts, when his life had been tipped upside down in more ways than one…

Harry's strange feelings began almost immediately. Malfoy's appearance on the train was no surprise, and nor was his less than polite greeting.

"Well, look who it is. Potty and the Weasel." Harry felt something stir deep within him as he looked at Malfoy's pale features sneering back at him. It felt different from the seething hatred he usually experienced when bantering with him. It felt almost like…longing. Harry stood up quickly to try and expel the feelings, hoping it looked like he was preparing to hold Ron back from attacking Malfoy, who had made a rather nasty comment about Ron's mother. Malfoy and his gang departed quickly after noticing Lupin, but Harry still felt a lingering sense of that strange feeling. Of course, the seeping cold and misery of the Dementor attack soon wiped out all traces of longing from Harry's mind, and Malfoy's taunting after the fact only awakened his familiar hatred.

As the year dragged on, Harry had more dire problems to focus on than his feelings (if that's what they were) towards Draco Malfoy. It wasn't until the day Hagrid broke the news about Buckbeak, that the strange pangs sprung up again. Turning to find Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle eavesdropping brought out something vicious in Hermione.

SMACK.

The sound of her hand striking the pale skin of Malfoy's cheek sent a flare of anger up in Harry. What surprised him the most was that the anger wasn't directed at Malfoy, but at Hermione. He could practically feel Ron swelling with pride next to him. He watched Malfoy bring a hand up to his face, the smooth skin already turning pink. He turned his pale eyes towards Harry, and for a second he thought he saw something there, a plea for help. Hermione raised her hand again and Harry felt a snarl build up inside him. Ron, thankfully, stopped her before he had a chance to do something reckless. Malfoy gave Harry a sharp glare before leaving. He was breathing heavy, trying to get his emotions under control as Hermione squealed at him about winning the Quidditch final. The idea of facing Malfoy on the Quidditch pitch made him feel nauseous, but not for the usual reasons. Harry couldn't stomach the thought of looking into Draco's pale grey eyes again after he had seen the vulnerability hiding deep inside them.

When the day finally came to face the Slytherins, Harry's nerves where wound so tight he was sure they would snap. He was so angry at Malfoy, for Buckbeak and Hagrid, for making him look like a fool for fainting, and mostly, for making Harry feel something for him that was completely and irrevocably unwelcome. The match was brutal. Harry channeled his anger into the game. He wanted to win with every fiber of his being. The last leg of the match approached and he and Malfoy raced side by side towards the Snitch, their knees touching. Harry gasped as their legs skimmed each other; the touch felt like a spark. Heat radiated from the spot where their bodies met and spread to every part of him. He turned his head and stared Malfoy dead in the face. Draco had a dazed expression on his face; his pink lips were parted in surprise. He'd felt it too. They were both distracted; the Snitch was gone. Harry snapped back into reality and focused on the game. Angelina scored a goal, he spotted Malfoy diving towards a glinting golden object. Racing forwards and knocking Malfoy's arm out of the way, he caught the Snitch and won the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor at last. Wrapped up in his elation, he forgot all about the electric moment with Malfoy in the air, and he let the euphoria of the moment envelope him.

Several nights later, still beaming with the joy of winning the Quidditch Cup, Harry lay in bed unable to sleep. He often had trouble sleeping. He quietly slipped out of bed and grabbed his invisibility cloak, fancying a nighttime stroll about the castle. He slipped out through the portrait hole and his bare feet hit the cold stone floor. Slowly he padded along the corridor, heading towards the moving staircases. The portraits on the wall were still, slow breathing and the occasional snore issuing from their dark canvases. The castle was calm and Harry felt soothed as he slowly tiptoed down the stairs. The staircase he was on started to move and he grabbed on to the railing to keep from tumbling down the steps. It stopped at a random landing that Harry didn't recognize. He stared for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, with a shrug, he stepped down onto the landing and exited the staircase through the door. He stepped out into a cavernous hallway, bathed in moonlight. The large intricate windows cast patterned shadows on the stone floor. Harry shook himself out of his invisibility cloak and let the soft light wash over him as he sauntered lazily down the unfamiliar hallway. No portraits adorned the walls, but a few tattered tapestries and old suits of armor served as decorations. Harry stopped short as he noticed a figure standing at one of the windows down the hall. They were still, quietly gazing out. Harry recognized the form almost immediately. The pale blonde hair of Draco Malfoy shone brilliantly in the light from the moon. Harry reached for his cloak, but it was too late. Draco's head swiveled quickly in his direction and spotted him instantly. They stood motionless for a moment, staring at each other.

"Potter," Draco said. It wasn't with his usual malice. It sounded as though it was just meant to be a greeting.

"Malfoy," Harry replied, uncertain. They stood in awkward silence again for a moment before Malfoy spoke again.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, a little more harshly this time and he took a step away from the window, towards Harry.

"Nothing," Harry said. "Just walking." Malfoy looked suspicious, and took another step towards him.

"Just walking?" he sneered, challenging. "You haven't come to gloat about your false victory?"

"False? What the hell are you talking about?" Harry exclaimed, taking a step towards Malfoy now.

"Well it's obvious isn't it? You cheated," Malfoy scoffed. Harry was outraged.

"Cheated? You're the one that was cheating, you little git," he cried, moving even closer. Malfoy's pale eyes glinted fiercely.

"Why you little-" He rushed at Harry and lashed out, hard. Harry felt Malfoy's fist connect with his jaw and he gasped as the pain shocked his senses. He recovered quickly and slammed into Malfoy, hoping to tackle him to the ground, and failing. He was much smaller than Malfoy, but although the other boy was quite slim he was stronger than he looked. They struggled for a moment, gasping, and then Malfoy slammed Harry into the stone wall. He pinned Harry's wrists down above his head and pushed his body against him roughly. They stood like that, nose to nose, breathing heavily. Harry's face and skull stung from the beating he took and he glared menacingly into Draco's narrowed eyes. He could feel Malfoy's body pressing into him and his cold hands gripping his wrists above him. His eyes traveled down Draco's face, past his long pale lashes, across his straight nose, and down to his full lips. He couldn't stop his gaze from lingering there. He heard Draco's breath hitch for a moment, and then his face slowly inched towards Harry's. Stunned, Harry stayed motionless as Draco pressed his soft lips against his own. He felt Malfoy's lashes flutter against his cheek and he held his breath as his eyes closed involuntarily. The warmth from Malfoy's lips spread throughout his body and he reveled in this strange feeling. Then, just like that, it was over. Malfoy let go of his wrists and pushed away from the wall. He turned away and without a second glance, drifted off down the hall and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Harry alone leaning against the wall.

After that night in the hallways, Harry barely saw Malfoy at all for the rest of the year. With the rescue of Buckbeak and Sirius, the ordeal with Wormtail, and the shocking discovery that Lupin was a werewolf, he didn't have much time to think about what happened with Malfoy. But it always lingered in the back of his mind, popping up to remind him when he least expected it. To remind him that he had let something like that happen…

And that he liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"And where have you been," Hermione inquired as soon as he set foot in the common room. Ron said nothing, but folded his arms and looked at him questioningly. Harry cleared his throat and held up his invisibility cloak.

"Just walking," he replied. It was his usual answer. They were the only three left in the common room at this hour. It looked as though Hermione had been editing one of Ron's essays. There were books and rolls of parchment spread out on the floor in front of the fireplace where they usually sat.

"Harry, if you don't want to tell us what you're doing then fine," Hermione said, looking a little hurt. "But don't lie to us. And please, just promise me you're not doing anything stupid." She meant stupid as in dangerous, and Harry wasn't sure if what he was doing was dangerous exactly, but it definitely wasn't smart.

"You've been spying on Malfoy, haven't you?" Ron said.

"I—what?" Harry spluttered, panicking.

"You keep saying you think something's up with him. After what you overheard on the train. That you think he's, you know…" Ron dropped his voice to a low whisper. "…a Death Eater."

"Oh, I-er, yeah. Yeah, I've been trying to see what he's been up to," Harry stammered, nodding. Ron looked pleased with himself. Hermione, however, was fuming.

"Harry, no!" she hissed. "You _can't_ be running around the castle at night thinking you're going to catch Malfoy in the act. What is it you think he's doing anyway? Performing Dark Magic on first years in the corridors? You have no proof that he's a, well, you know what. And if you think that you're going to find any by stalking him in the middle of the night then you're a complete idiot. He's clever, Draco. If he were doing some sort of illicit activity he'd be careful about it. And besides, I really don't think that's the case."

"You're right," Harry agreed, thinking back to a few hours before in the broom cupboard. "He would be careful about it. That just means I'll have to try harder." Hermione threw up her hands and stalked away from them. Ron grinned.

"I'll come with you next time," he said. Harry blanched. That would most definitely _not_ be happening.

"Er, yeah, Ron. Sounds great." He said goodnight and headed up the stair to the boys dormitory, leaving Ron to clean up the books on the floor. As he undressed and slid into bed, drawing the drapes around him, he let his mind wander back to 2 years ago, his 4th year at Hogwarts.

They had only been back at school for a few days before the inevitable happened: Harry and Ron got into yet another fight with Draco Malfoy.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!" Malfoy yelled, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle he walked up to them with a newspaper in hand. "Your dad's in the paper, Weasley." He read the whole embarrassing article loudly, for everyone in the entrance hall to hear. Ron's face was red and he wasn't moving. As strange as things had gotten between Harry and Malfoy last year, he knew he needed to stand up for his friend now.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," he said, and tried to maneuver Ron away.

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer weren't you, Potter," Malfoy sneered. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?" Ron attempted to launch himself at Malfoy and Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his robes to hold him in place. Harry was fuming. He didn't care what happened with Malfoy in the hallway last year anymore. He hated him.

"You know _your _mother, Malfoy? That expression she's got like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or is it just because you were with her?" Harry thought maybe he had gone too far, because Malfoy looked positively livid. Harry turned away, ushering Ron towards the staircase, and seconds later felt the heat of a spell graze his cheek. He reached into his pocket and attempted to fish out his wand, fully intending to hit Draco with every spell he knew. Of course, it was just then when Professor Moody arrived and performed some magic that might have left Draco with nightmares for the rest of his life. Harry watched the little white ferret shiver on the stone floor and felt his anger drain away instantly. The hall had gone silent and Harry was motionless, unsure of what to do as Moody pointed his wand at the ferret, causing it to fly up in the air and smack down onto the floor. Harry almost screamed. Moody was torturing a student! He thought for sure Hermione would burst out furiously at any moment, but she looked just as stunned as he felt. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall appeared and transfigured Draco back into himself. His face was flushed and his eyes were watering with pain. Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again when Malfoy shot him a look. Moody grabbed the boy by his upper arm and marched him out of the entrance hall towards the dungeons.

"Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret," Ron was saying a few moments later. Harry forced himself to laugh along with Hermione, trying to avoid suspicion. In truth, he felt horrible, but he hid it well throughout the rest of the day and faked a good mood in front of his friends.

That night, Harry lay in his four-poster bed listening to Ron's snores drift through the darkness. He couldn't stop thinking about the little white ferret and the pain in Malfoy's grey eyes as he was being led away. After a moment's hesitation, Harry parted the drapes around his bed and slipped out into the dark. He snatched up his invisibility cloak and head towards the door, pausing to make sure that Ron was still fast asleep. Silently, Harry tiptoed down the stairs, through the common room and out of the portrait hole. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to find that corridor again although he remembered it perfectly. The moonlight shining through the gilded windows, and onto Draco's silky, silver hair stood out like crystals in his mind. Even if he did manage to find the same hallway where they met all those months ago, he wasn't sure Malfoy would even be there. He supposed that it didn't hurt to try, and quietly set off down the moving staircases. He stopped at the one that had changed while he was walking last year and led him to the hallway where Draco was waiting. It didn't move and he started to feel a bit silly standing alone in the dark on the stone steps, even though he was invisible. He looked around and made sure Mrs. Norris and Filch were nowhere to be seen. They weren't.

"C'mon, move," he whispered, and gave a light hop onto the next step. Nothing happened. Now he felt really foolish. He had just turned to head back up the steps when the staircase gave a lurch and started to turn. Harry threw out his arms to keep his balance and stood still as he spotted the landing to the door that he needed. He clung to the railing as he slid down a few more steps to be closer to the bottom and waited there for the stairs to stop. The problem was, they didn't appear to be stopping. Panicked, Harry moved his foot down to the last step and looked down, which turned out to be a horrible idea. He could see all the way down to the floor of the entrance hall. A few staircases below him were slowly moving. He looked back up and saw that his was about to pass the landing and he made a quick decision. He had to jump. He took a deep breath, chided himself for being so stupid, and leapt into the air…

He landed roughly on the cold stone and skidded into the door. The staircase groaned past, uncaringly. He let out the breath we was holding and stood up, adjusting his cloak to cover him more completely. Without giving himself time to reconsider (and also realizing that he was stuck on this landing until another staircase came by), he turned and pushed open the door. The hallway was the same as he remembered it. The moonlight glinted off the suits of armor standing at attention against the wall. He could see dust motes drifting through the air where they passed through the shafts of light. He shifted out of his cloak and walked slowly down the hall, looking for any sign that another person might be present. He saw no one. Swearing, he threw his cloak to the side and sat down on the floor, heavily.

"Stupid," he muttered. Stupid for thinking Draco would be here, and stupid for wanting to find him in the first place. He let his head sink into his hands and sighed. He could have seriously injured himself jumping off of that staircase. And for what? He wasn't even sure why he wanted to see Malfoy. To apologize? To make sure he wasn't hurt? To feel those soft lips against his once more…

"Feeling lonely, Potter?" Harry jerked his head up at the sound of the familiar drawl. Draco was walking lazily down the hall, his hair shining luminously just as Harry had been picturing it for months. He stood up abruptly, leaving his cloak on the ground.

"I…er…I just wanted to…" He let himself trail off. He still wasn't sure what he was doing here. Draco had stopped a few feet away from him and was just standing there, looking at him.

"Hoping to meet someone here? Someone…" he smirked," _special_." He took a step closer to Harry, who in turn took a step back.

"I just wanted to make sure that you-" he stammered, and swallowed hard. "That is to say, that you weren't hurt today when Moody, well, you know." Draco's smirk fell quickly from his face.

"Yes, well you can be sure that when my father hears about this _Professor_ Moody will no longer have a place at this school," he sneered. "But no, I'm not hurt." Harry wasn't sure what to say.

"Er, good," he mumbled. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at his cloak, thinking that maybe it was time to go. This was a stupid idea after all….

"I know why you're really here," said Draco, softly. Harry looked up sharply. He had taken another step forwards, and Harry, panicking slightly, stepped back again, only to find himself with his back against the stone of the wall. This was starting to feel far too familiar.

"Why's that?" he asked, defiantly.

"Don't play dumb," Draco snapped, his sharply angled face hard with malice. Then suddenly his hands were pressed to the wall on either side of Harry, trapping him. "I thought you would have come back sooner," he murmured, his expression softening.

"I—I wanted to," Harry said, surprising himself. "I just didn't know if you… well some things came up." Draco nodded, but Harry wasn't sure if he was listening anymore. He was gazing at Harry's lips; his pale lashes casting shadows on his razor-like cheekbones. Harry's heart was pounding as Draco leaned in closer. He put his hands on the boy's chest as Draco closed the space between them and tried to mutter a protest, but it was stifled as warm lips softly caressed his own. He thought he could feel Malfoy's heart beating as furiously as his own beneath his fingertips. Slowly, he closed his eyes and let the feel of Draco's slim body pressed against him envelope him.

The kiss was slow and sweet and Harry had never felt anything like it. He let out a small gasp as Draco's tongue ducked in between his lips and pushed them apart. The kiss grew in intensity; Harry could feel the heat pumping through his veins as he slid his own tongue across Draco's lips. He felt the other boy shudder and slither his hands up to cup Harry's face. Harry kept his hands where they were. They were serving as a barrier between them, and Harry wasn't sure what would happen if he removed them. He thought about running his hands through Draco's soft silvery hair and felt one of his hands twitch of its own accord. Suddenly, he could no longer feel lips upon his own. He almost opened his eyes when he felt a light kiss upon his cheek, and then his jaw, slowly and deliciously moving towards his neck. His eyes flew open as he realized what he was doing and he gave Draco a shove. Malfoy skidded backwards, a shocked expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Harry was breathing heavily; his hands were trembling.

"I can't—I don't know what- oh my-" he couldn't get any words out. He glanced at his cloak lying on the floor a few feet away. He made a lunge for it, but Draco was quicker. He snatched it up and held it under his arm.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked. "Being seen?" Harry shook his head. That wasn't it. He felt wrong, everything felt wrong. This boy who he's hated for years, his worst enemy at school—he was letting him _kiss_ him? He, Harry, who had never let anyone that close to him, never mind a _boy._ He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe that he'd _wanted_ this to happen…and still did. He started to back away from Draco, but the boy lunged out and grabbed his hand, putting a finger to his lips. Harry opened his mouth to say something but Draco quickly put a hand over his mouth to stop him. "Filch," he mouthed. Harry listened, and sure enough he could hear footsteps coming down the hallway and the sound of a cat meowing.

"This way," Malfoy whispered. Harry was well aware that Draco had his invisibility cloak, and he was not about to leave it behind. He let Malfoy pull him along down the hallway a short distance until they reached a small door. "Open it," Malfoy commanded. Harry was about to protest, but he didn't. He could have made for the door to the staircase, but there was a chance that the stairs still weren't there. No, his best bet was to hide. Even if it was in a small broom cupboard with Draco Malfoy. He opened the door and ducked inside with Malfoy in tow. Malfoy shut the door behind them quietly and the cupboard was enveloped in darkness. Harry could hear only their breathing and was painfully aware of how close they were. Draco's hand was still clasped tightly over his own, and Harry, despite himself, was grateful for it's warmth. They remained silent as they listened for Filch's footsteps to pass. After what felt like forever, the shuffling steps outside faded into the distance and Harry let out a sigh of relief. He felt Malfoy shift in the darkness before he dropped Harry's hand.

"Well," he whispered. "We won't be seen in here. I think Filch just proved that. So if that's what you're scared of—"

"That's not the issue," Harry hissed. "I just don't think that this is a good idea, is all." Draco was silent for a moment. Then he snickered.

"Are you worried I'm going to hurt you?" he asked, wickedly.

"No, that's not what I—" Suddenly he felt hands close around his neck as he was shoved up against the wall, yet again.

"Because maybe I am," Draco whispered into his ear. Harry groped at Draco's hands around his throat uselessly. He couldn't breath. He tried to gasp for air but his windpipe was being crushed. Harry found himself surprised at Malfoy's strength and he absently thought back to the year before when Hermione had slapped him. He chose to walk away… he shook the thought away. It was stupid to be thinking about that while he was being choked to death. Then ,unexpectedly, he wasn't. Malfoy removed his hands from Harry's neck and placed them around him in an embrace. Harry stood gasping with his hands at his sides, confusion wrapping around his thoughts like a snake. Draco's hands moved again and Harry stiffened, but this time one hand moved to his hip and the other to the back of his neck. It was a light touch, not threatening at all. He could feel Draco's breath on his face. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that this boy had just strangled him and he should be running, but for whatever reason, he stayed still. Draco dipped his head forward and pressed their foreheads together, but made no move to kiss him.

They said nothing, just stood together in the dark in a strange and confusing embrace. Harry, almost as though he had no control over his body, felt his arms float up from his sides and slip around Draco's back, pulling him closer. Then, without thinking, he found Draco's lips in the dark and pressed a kiss to them, light and unsure. Draco responded, pulling Harry in closer and moving his lips against him. Harry felt the hand on the back of his neck slide up into his hair, Draco's fingers wrapped around the strands and tightened. He pulled Harry's head to the side roughly and drizzled hungry kisses down to his neck. This time, Harry let him. His kept his eyes closed tightly, afraid if he opened them this all would be a dream, and Draco would fade away into nothing. He sighed as Malfoy's lips touched his collarbone and he dug his fingers into the other boy's back, clutching him closer. Draco's fingers untangled themselves from Harry's unruly black hair, and he felt them trickle down his chest, his stomach, and down to the waistband of his pants. Draco's deft hands quickly popped open the button. Harry made a move to stop him but Draco pushed him back into the wall, almost savagely.

"No, Potter," he murmured. "Just once, don't fight me." Harry said nothing, but he noticed Draco had stopped. He was waiting for permission. Harry licked his lips and gulped.

"Okay," he whispered. Draco's lips were against his instantly, his hands at Harry's zipper. He felt a cold draft as his pants slid down to his ankles, and then his boxers. Draco gave him one last kiss and then slowly dropped down to his knees. Harry gasped loudly has he felt Draco's cold hands on the place no other person had ever touched before. His hands were clasped at his sides and he balled them into fists, fighting the urge to smack those hands away.

"Let go," he heard Draco whisper. And then Draco could no longer do any talking, for his mouth became quite busy. Harry moaned and threw his head back against the wall and Draco's lips closed around him. The warmth and softness of his mouth was a drastic contrast to the chill of the hands that had been caressing him moments before. Draco's hands were now sliding up Harry's shirt, stroking his stomach and chest. The light from under the cupboard door caught his pale hair as his head bobbed up and down. That hair… Harry had been longing to run his fingers through it for so long. He let his fists at his side relax slowly and his open hands hung there a moment before he brought them to rest lightly on Draco's head. The soft silky tresses were better than Harry had imagined. Roughly, he grabbed handfuls of it and received a surprised moan from Draco, who started to move faster. Harry pushed and pulled Draco's head with light force, reveling in the feel of the moment.

He could feel the pressure inside him building to a breaking point and he bit his lip, fighting to keep quiet. Draco's hands were clawing at his back now, and the pain from his nails melded perfectly into the pleasure he felt coursing through his body. He felt himself on the brink of an enormous cliff, itching to fall into the relief that awaited him in the darkness. The pressure built and built and then—he shattered, his mind could no longer think of anything but the pleasure filling up his entire being. His hands in Draco's hair tightened and he let out a small whimper as the feeling subsided, leaving him tired and content. He heard Draco swallow and lick his lips before he pulled Harry's boxers and pants back up to his hips. Fast as lightening, Draco brought a hand up to Harry's throat, but applied only a light pressure. He leaned in and kissed him lightly with his silken, wet lips.

"See you later, Potter," he whispered. He placed something soft in Harry's hand, removed his fingers from Harry's throat and stepped away. Harry watched him as the door opened and the light struck his full lips and white, messy hair. Then the door swung shut behind him and Harry was left alone in the dark, holding, he realized, his invisibility cloak. He tucked it under his arm as he zipped and buttoned his pants, and then threw it over himself before he stepped out into the moonlight. Draco was long gone, though he looked around for him anyway. As he headed towards the door to the staircases, he couldn't help but feel strange. He felt a large bundle of emotions, all jumbled together inside him. He was scared and confused by his desire to seek out Draco, and for allowing him to…well, to do what he did. He felt guilty for lying to his friends about it all, although definitely not guilty enough to tell them. He also felt ashamed for becoming so intimate with a boy who he would never be friends with, at least not publicly; a boy who treated him and his friends horribly.

But strangely, the feeling that stood out from all the others, the strongest feeling he had, was of complete and utter contentedness. He actually felt happy. He wasn't about to let it happen again if he could help it; it just wasn't worth the risk. But he knew he would think about it constantly. And he knew he was kidding himself if he thought he wasn't going to seek out Draco Malfoy again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Year 6_

Harry, unable to sleep as usual, lie awake in the dark and wished he could see Malfoy. They had been forced to rendezvous earlier than usual because Draco said he had something to do that night. Harry sighed and flipped over onto his stomach, thinking about how much easier things had been just two year ago. He let his thoughts drift back to the memory of their fourth year again, after that first night in the cupboard with Draco…

Harry didn't see Malfoy again until the day after the Goblet of Fire incident., during Hagrid's class. It was the first time he was going to face the Slytherins since his name had come out of the Goblet. He was not looking forward to their taunts and, of course, they started almost immediately.

"Ah, look, boys," Malfoy said to Crabbe and Goyle. "It's the champion." He gave Harry a sly glance that went unseen by their classmates. Harry noticed that the two boys seemed to be developing a code for "let's meet tonight." Unfortunately, it largely consisted of Malfoy tormenting Harry in front of his peers. Harry tried to keep his face still and emotionless although he was already tingling with anticipation.

The day passed in a blur of activity that Harry barely paid any attention to. He started to feel anxious as the sun set and he sat with his back to Draco during dinner to keep himself from staring. His focus drifted in and out as he thought about what the night might hold. He knew going to the corridor was a terrible idea; he'd told himself that he wasn't going to seek Draco out in the moonlit hallway again. Things between them had already gone too far. Despite all that, he couldn't stop the small voice in the back of his mind that urged him to go, cooed that he needed to, that he desperately wanted to. Besides, with his thoughts on Draco it was easy to ignore the looks he was receiving from his classmates and the whispers he heard behind his back. No one would believe that he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire. He didn't care if Draco believed him or not; he had a feeling they wouldn't be discussing much of anything anyway. He headed to bed with his freshly brewed justification for going to see Malfoy filling him with smugness, and a bit of apprehension. There was a small drop of doubt that told him that Draco might not even want to see him, that maybe he had imagined their "code." He lie awake in the dark cocoon of his four-poster bed and waited until he heard Ron's snores drift through the drapes. He tried to keep still with his eyes shut tightly, hoping that if he pretended to sleep he might actually do so. After breathing deeply for a few moments and wiping his clammy palms on the sheets he decided that sleep was not an option for him tonight. His body was craving something else. Silently, Harry pushed off the covers and slithered out of the hangings into the cold darkness of the dormitory. He made sure he was completely covered by his invisibility cloak before he exited the portrait hole and crept to the staircases. As though Hogwarts approved of his actions, the stairs were waiting for him when he reached them and he hurriedly clambered down them before they lurched to the side. He was getting ready to jump off of the stairs onto the landing but found he didn't need to when they parked neatly in front of it. Surprised at how quickly he arrived and thoroughly nervous, he stepped onto the landing and put his palm flat against the rough wood of the door in front of him. He could feel the spirals and divots in the door through the thin material of the cloak. He tried to quiet his ragged breathing and closed his eyes. _This is mad,_ he thought. _I'm being stupid._ He had so much to worry about with the upcoming tournament that concentrating on seeing Draco Malfoy was the worst thing he could do. However, he couldn't deny the aching feeling inside of him; every fiber of his being wanted to push open the door and see the slim, white figure on the other side. Harry opened his eyes and grasped the handle, exhilaration flushing his cheeks. He slipped in through the doorway and shut it with a small click, sliding the cloak off of his shoulders. A hand slid over his eyes and he gasped. It slipped down further to cover his mouth, stifling any protests he had been about to make.

"Shh," whispered a voice behind him. "No need to make a scene." The hand fell away from his face and Harry spun around, not at all surprised to see Draco smirking at him. He was wearing black silk pajamas with dark green trim around the sleeves and near the buttons on the front. His white hair was slightly tousled and his grey eyes were glinting mischievously. "I didn't frighten you, did I, Potter?"

"No, you didn't," Harry mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious in his blue striped cotton pajamas. _I should have put on actual trousers,_ he thought. Draco reached for his hand and grasped it firmly.

"Good," he said and began to lead Harry down the hallway. Everything felt still and calm and Harry felt like he was moving through a dream. His body felt far away and detached except for his hand, which was clasped firmly in Draco's. They were moving towards the broom cupboard; the small door was barely visible in the gloom. Harry had half a mind to pull Draco to the other side of the hallway, towards the moonlight, just to be able to look at him when they… when they did whatever they were about to do.

"Wait," he said, and stopped walking, tugging Draco's hand back. Draco stopped and turned to look at him questioningly. Harry marveled at the way his eyes seem to glow silver where the light hit them.

"What, Potter?" There was an obvious hint of annoyance in his voice and an impatient set to the angled lines of his face. Harry was embarrassed to tell him why he wanted to stay out here. He cleared his throat and forced himself to look Draco in the eyes.

"I'm not afraid," he said, not quite a strongly as he would have liked. "To be out here, I mean." Draco raised a thin pale brow and his lips curled into an amused smirk.

"A true Gryffindor," he sniggered. "I, however, would rather not be caught out of bed this late." He tightened his grip on Harry's hand and pulled him towards the door again. Determined to assert some sort of dominance this time, Harry pulled back and Draco stumbled into him.

"Potter, _what_ are you doing?" he snarled angrily. Before he could change his mind, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him closer. Malfoy's features softened as he looked down at Harry and slowly they inched their faces closer to each other until their lips met. Harry felt a surge of pride at his small victory, which he soon forgot about as Draco's fingers trailed up his spine. A quick flick of Draco's tongue at his lips had him gasping, and Harry cursed the other boy for being so good at making him fall apart. Draco pulled away and slid a finger under Harry's chin. The wicked glint in his eyes made Harry shiver. "Come," Draco purred as he stepped backwards towards the door. Harry straightened up when he realized he'd been clinging to Draco like a child and finally followed him towards the broom cupboard.

The darkness inside felt cold and unwelcoming compared to the soft light in the hallway.

"I really don't like this stupid cupboard" he whispered. Draco's hand found his face in the dark and stroked it gently.

"Shut up," was all he said before his mouth was against Harry's again. The caress of his lips was surprisingly soft and light and Harry felt something inside him quiver. He wasn't going to be timid. He was going to be brave and powerful and, like Draco said, a true Gryffindor, although he wasn't sure this is what Godric Gryffindor had in mind when he picked courage as the house trait. Harry pressed his lips into Draco's fiercely and brought his hand up to his white, feathery tresses. He pushed his body forward and moved Draco back against the wall. Malfoy smiled underneath his lips and his hands moved up underneath the back of Harry's shirt, the cold fingers soothing against his hot skin. Daringly, Harry slid his own hands down Draco's arms to grab his wrists and slowly began to move them forwards towards his hips. He hesitated briefly, his lips paused against the other boys', and then he brought Draco's hands past his hips and to the front of his pajamas. Draco's skillful fingers stroked and pressed him through the thin cloth and Harry suppressed a groan as he clutched at Draco's silk. Draco trickled kisses down to Harry's neck and caressed the skin there with his tongue. Abruptly, he stopped and Harry heard him laugh softly before he pulled away.

"What?" Harry asked, alarmed. "What is it?" Had he done something wrong? Had he been too forward?

"Oh, nothing," he said slyly. Harry could hear the smile in his voice although he couldn't see it. "I just think that, perhaps, it might be your turn."

"What do you mean?" Harry was perplexed. Draco's laugh was a low rumble in his chest.

"On your knees, Potter," he commanded. Harry blanched.

"What? I don't—" Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders and pushed him down until he kneeled on the cold stone. He didn't fight it. He couldn't see anything in front of him, but he had a general idea of what he'd be looking at if he could. He put his hands out in front of him and found Draco's legs, encased in smooth silk. He ran his hands lightly up Draco's calves and thighs, up to the waistband of his pants. His fingers trembling, he hooked his fingers under the material and began to pull it down carefully. After he pulled it past Draco's thighs, it slid down the rest of the way to his ankles. He wasn't wearing boxers.

Harry gulped and took a breath, remembering what Draco did with his mouth last time. _Just do what he did_, Harry thought, and he placed his hands on Draco's thighs. Timidly, he moved a hand inward until he found what he was looking for. Draco made a small whimpering noise as Harry took him into his mouth. His fears drained out of him as he fell into a rhythm. Draco's fingers were wound into Harry's hair and he was pushing his head back and forth gently. Harry let his other hand drift up Malfoy's shirt and trace the hard muscles of his chest and stomach. Draco's soft moans urged him to bob his head faster and tighten his lips. He remembered how he felt with Draco's lips around him and it sent shivers throughout his body. He wondered if he was making Draco feel that same way. The pleased noises issuing from his mouth were definitely encouraging. Draco's fingers tightened in Harry's hair and he groaned loudly and shuddered. Harry panicked as his mouth filled with warm liquid and then he remembered to swallow. He gingerly licked of the rest and sat back on his heels, out of breath. Draco slipped his silk bottoms back over his hips and slid down the wall in front of Harry. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could see the faint outline of the boy in front of him.

"Well done," Draco chuckled. Harry let out a nervous sort of strained laugh. Draco leaned in towards him and took hold of Harry's chin in his fingers, then put his mouth against him. Harry was startled, considering what he had just done, but Draco kissed him like nothing had happened, and maybe even a little more intensely than usual. He pressed forward on top of Harry, pushing him back onto the floor. Harry, now with his back flat on the stone, wrapped his arms around Draco's back, their stomachs and chests pressed together. Draco's weight on top of him was almost soothing; he was warm and had a pleasant smell, like fresh mint and lemon. Draco sat up, in between Harry's legs and placed his hands on Harry's chest. He popped open the first button on Harry's pajamas and then the second, before Harry caught his wrists in his hands.

"Wait," he said, confused. Draco had never wanted to undress him before.

"Come on, Potter," he said, fingers poised over the next button. "You deserve a reward after all that hard work." Harry hesitated. It wouldn't be that much different than anything they've done before, would it? He released Draco's hands, and the other boy swiftly undid the rest of the buttons. The air was frigid against his bare chest, and Draco stroking him with his cold hands wasn't helping. He felt goose bumps ripple across his skin. Draco pressed down on top of him again, bringing his warmth and comforting weight along with him. His hungry kisses almost distracted Harry from his hand, which was moving slowly down towards Harry's waistband. Harry gasped as Draco's deft fingers found him yet again. The weight disappeared from on top of him and Harry felt his bottoms being tugged off roughly. It was so _cold._ But then Draco's warm, wet mouth enveloped him and he forgot about the temperature. It was just as amazing as the last time. The shattering release might have been even better. When he was finished, Draco leaned over him again and did something that surprised Harry more than anything he'd done before.

"For the record," he whispered, lips close to Harry's ear, "I believe you." And then he was gone and Harry was lying practically naked on the floor. At that moment, he didn't really care about the shame he had felt before (or the shame he was feeling now). Draco Malfoy believed that he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire. That was a miracle in itself.

_Year 6_

Harry was snapped out of his memory at the sound of Ron's sleep talking; something about spiders again. He shifted his slightly bruised body, a reminder of earlier in the cupboard with Malfoy, and made a mental note to suggest they move to the Room of Requirement, maybe they could find a bed. An uncomfortable thought pushed its way into Harry's head, a small nagging voice that said that these visits with Draco Malfoy wouldn't continue for that much longer. Harry shushed the voice, but couldn't help think that it was true. He had noticed changes in the other boy, dark changes that he knew he couldn't understand. He knew Draco's father was a Death Eater, but could Draco himself have been initiated? He had the sneaking suspicion that he might have been; Draco had been refusing to remove his shirt during their moments together. How could Harry continue something like this with someone he knew was working for his enemy? It wasn't as though he had developed deep feelings for the boy, but their meetings had been something Harry had looked forward to for 3 years now. The idea that they might not be able to continue caused Harry quite a great deal of sadness. Still, he told himself, he would find out what was going on with Draco Malfoy, even if it meant they could never meet in the moonlit hallway again.

_ Happy Valentine's Day! 3_


End file.
